Category: Fiction

Brenna Walch after twenty-one-year-old Yves Saint Laurent at Christian Dior’s Funeral, 1957 They buried his mentor in his own design.

Samantha Levy You and I first slept together in October, but we had been friends and colleagues for three years

Elissa Matthews The sign at the bottom of the hill says “No Trucks Over 5 Tons Allowed.” It’s supposed to

Cain Randle I had been thinking about writing a memoir for twenty years and staring at a blinking cursor in

N.J. Webster On our hike to say goodbye, we find a tortilla chip truck at the bottom of the canyon.

Amber Burke We’d just bought one of those Maine houses, you know the kind, right on the cliffside, gulf below,

DS Levy My wife’s artsy friends came over for a Christmas party, and while they were hanging around the island

Jane Wageman She met him collecting shark teeth on the South Carolina shore and he was not a beach bum

Elise Blackwell Because I am not a good-looking man in anyone’s book, with my slit eyes and thorny hair, her